


I Should Be So Lucky

by MachineQueen



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: F/M, Gambling, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:36:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18632794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen/pseuds/MachineQueen
Summary: Balthier meets Fran while trying to win enough money to repair the Strahl.Involves sass and cheating at casinos.





	I Should Be So Lucky

“Bugger.”

Balthier stared at the readings on the dashboard of the Strahl. All of them spelled trouble, especially the fuel gauge. He'd refuelled in Bhujerba but the ship had burned through the fuel much faster than she should have done. If he didn't stop soon, he'd have an empty tank on top of a lieu of other mechanical failures. 

“Not happy, are you?” said Balthier. He couldn't remember when he'd first started talking to the ship. It was probably further evidence of his own madness. Other sky pirates travelled in bands or had partners - others they could crash and burn with when things got bad. But he'd have to manage by himself. 

“A broken ship and 1438 gil to my name.” He muttered. “Bugger.”

Things could be worse, he reminded himself. At least he wasn't stranded in Archadian airspace or trying to make a quick getaway. 

The Strahl creaked. She wasn't much of a conversationalist. He ground his teeth in frustration and brought up a map of Ivalice. He needed somewhere to land and he needed it ASAP. 

The nearest city was the Dalmascan capital, Rabanastre. He hesitated. The Archadians had settled in the city and there were likely imperial forces around every corner. It was unlikely he'd be recognised as anything but a sky pirate… however he had no desire to run into any of his former countrymen. 

More to the point, a city would have mechanics; mechanics who would keep their mouths shut for the right price. 

Whether the Strahl could make it there or not was another question. If he broke down over the Dalmascan desert, he'd likely be killed by monsters before he could die of thirst. The thought was hardly comforting. But his only other options were to turn back for Bhujerba or to stop at Nalbina, where everyone would be very keen to know his business. He wouldn't be lost in the crowd there like he would in the city. 

Rabanastre, he decided. 

XxX

The aerodrome was busy but he was able to dock the Strahl for a mere 1000 gil. Balthier doubted what he had left would buy him much in the way of dinner but at least she was safe. 

Picking pockets wasn't exactly something he relished doing - he preferred bigger, more complex jobs - but he supposed he didn't have much choice. At least the city would have plenty of people to steal from. As he left the aerodrome, he scanned the crowds, looking for a target. To his surprise, he received a few appraising stares in return. The locals seemed to favour light clothing which made him look overdressed and far more obviously a foreigner. Experts always blended in so no one gave them a second glance - he’d learned that from the crooks he’d arrested in Archades.

“On the way to the scrapyard, are you?”

A feminine voice, right above his ear. Balthier jumped, as he hadn’t heard anyone approach. As he turned, he came face to face with a Viera woman. He tried not to let his mouth fall open, which was difficult as he'd never seen one up close. He affected a casual tone, as though six foot tall women wearing nothing but scanty lingerie came up to him in the street all the time.

“Well, hello there. Why do you say that?”

“Your ship left a white ghost in the sky.”

… So the cloaking device was also malfunctioning. Great. That meant more awkward questions would be coming his way. And if his shaky descent into Rabanastre had been witnessed, no wonder he was getting funny looks. The Viera was looking him up and down with an expression that suggested she found him lacking in some way. But Balthier refused to let it phase him - in return he offered his most seductive smile.

“I'm sure I can get her fixed.”

“I can give you coin for the scrap,” said the stranger. “What use is a dying ship?”

What use indeed? Balthier couldn't guess how much repairs were going to cost. He was going to be stuck in Rabanastre while he raised the gil he'd need to fix her. For a moment, he flirted with the idea of taking up the offer. There were other ships that he could buy...or steal...

Then he remembered the Strahl was more than a ship. It was home and a link back to his family, however far they'd fallen. No coin could buy something like that. 

“She's not for sale,” he said, flashing his best leading man grin. “I'm flattered at the interest though.”

“As well you should be.”

“Balthier,” he said offering his hand to shake. 

The Viera looked down at his hand as if it was something she'd stepped in. Balthier made a mental note that shaking hands was not the done thing in Rabanastre and withdrew it. Balthier sighed and tried a different tack.

“Might I enquire your name, fair lady?”

“It is Fran. But I doubt you will need to know it.”

“Oh? Why not, pray tell?”

“Because I do not think we will speak again.”

And with that cutting blow to his ego, Fran strode off into the crowd. A few people turned to look at her - it seemed that Viera were an unusual sight in Rabanastre as well. Balthier wondered how she’d ended up here and why she’d been interested in his ship. The bow slung over her back suggested an adventurer of some kind...or a hunter...or a sky pirate…?

It was tempting to run after her but if she reacted poorly it might attract unwanted attention. Besides, there were more pressing issues at hand - he needed to find food and then he needed to find a mechanic willing to take a look at the Strahl.

XxX

A tavern was a good a place to start as any. Balthier managed to get some directions from giggly women celebrating their friends’ upcoming wedding. It was all too easy to make them blush and it was tempting to stay with them - until he saw an imperial guard taking an uncomfortably close interest. He gave the man a tight smile before taking his leave. He’d only been in the city half an hour - someone trying to kick his arse this early on would be a record but also extremely inconvenient. So far Rabanastre seemed to have taken an extreme dislike to him. That and the humid heat of the city were both starting to make him sweat. 

The Sandsea wasn’t too difficult to find. The inside smelt like metal and booze and the patrons were the same archetypes he was used to seeing in every tavern. Delicious bar maids, grizzled men, bored girlfriends, escaped fathers and kids too young to drink perched at the bar and sat at the tables. A few hunters lingered at the notice board, looking for easy work. If Balthier had had a crew, it was a line of work he might consider. As it stood, taking down marks alone was a tall order and hardly glamourous. 

A beer cost 100 gil. Balthier handed it over grudgingly. Truth be told, he preferred rum or wine but they were pricier and he needed to save all the gil he could for the Strahl. 

Now he'd bought a drink and had a seat at the bar, he figured that he had the right to ask the tired looking barman a few questions. 

“Straight to the point mate - I’m looking for a mechanic.”

“What kind?”

“Airship.”

“Try the aerodrome.”

“Don’t have the coin. Any other ideas?”

“Lowtown. But you get what you pay for and they're not going to know their way around an Archadian engine.”

Balthier choked on his drink. It usually took people a bit longer to place him. He had taken care to exchange the stiff mannerisms of the Archadian upper classes for more roguish ones. At first it had been strange to do and say as he liked but now he knew he could never go back.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you're used to talking to all sorts of folks. I know my accents and yours is Archadian through and through.”

Balthier took another swig of his drink and wondered whether he should try changing his voice. But he soon dismissed the thought - his voice was the only thing he had left apart from the Strahl. 

“Can’t say we get many Archadians in here though. They usually go for the more upmarket spots.”

At that, Balthier perked up. It sounded like he was going to need to raise a fair sum to hire a mechanic. Any opportunity he had to fleece the rich was one he would take. Though he was a sky pirate, he preferred to take from those who had too much rather than too little. 

“Tell me more.”

XxX

The rattling and jingling of coins was the most beautiful sound. Balthier took a minute to stand and bask in it. The casino was a work of art, it really was. There were slot machines, roulette wheels, tables for black jack and poker. Chips rattled, people cheered at their wins and sighed at their losses. The air inside the casino was cool and crisp, trying to entice players into staying a little longer. Balthier no longer stood out like a sore thumb - there were Archadians wherever he turned. It was like stepping into a slice of home and Balthier was hit by the realisation that he missed his city. He’d spent all that time trying to escape, knowing that he didn’t belong but he missed it anyway. It was a strange feeling and it filled his mind with uncomfortable what ifs. If only he’d found this place before the Sandsea, he might have been able to buy a drink. As it stood, he needed his remaining gil to get himself back in the game.

The blackjack table was a natural choice for Balthier. He scanned the tables to check a) which had a spot and b) which had the most interesting looking company. Conversation would be a welcome distraction from the unsettling homesick feeling. 

As he searched, he had a sudden start of recognition. The Viera he’d spoken to earlier, Fran, was playing at one of the tables. She stood out but no one seemed to question her presence or give her much of a second look. Did that mean she was a regular here? He approached slowly, wanting to get a better look - and not just because she was beautiful in the most extraordinary way. 

The table’s dealer was beautiful too. She had golden hair, which seemed common among Dalmascans and a winning smile. A good flirt would usually do him the world of good and she looked adorable in her waistcoat and bowtie. On a normal day, he’d choose her over the cold, wild Fran but something about this Viera had caught his interest. There were two other gentlemen at the table - but he only had eyes for Fran.

Blackjack had a smooth, soothing rhythm to it. The familiar words and gestures lured him in and he was soon lost in the game. Chip piles grew before his eyes but Fran’s was by far the largest. 

She’s cheating, thought Balthier. Nothing he’d seen so far corroborated that thought. It was just an instinct he had, a feeling. But if Balthier had learned anything as a sky pirate, it was to always trust his instincts. What’s more, she didn’t appear to be using basic strategy so her trick must work some other way.

He needed a closer look and approached the table, waiting for a new shuffle. 

“Good evening. May I join you? Fran, isn’t it?”

Fran shot him a look which Balthier took to mean that she didn’t remember him.

“We met earlier at the aerodrome,” he prompted. He received no response but he met Fran’s eye easily, even though a lesser man would have wilted under her glare.

“Oh, the aerodrome,” said the dealer, wanting to break the awkward silence. “I heard a funny looking ship parked up there earlier. I wonder who it belongs to?”

“No idea,” said Balthier without missing a beat. “Shall we play?”

Balthier bet small - as if he really had a choice - but he was no slouch at blackjack. His father had taught him the optimum play for each hand and he’d had them memorised by the time he’d reached gambling age. Forget times tables - the maths Balthier learned had all come from card games and from back when his father had smiled and -

The memory was like shoving his hand through broken glass. He forced his mind back on the game and cursed himself for getting distracted. He mentally looped back the last few plays, trying to get his card count back on track.

By the end of the first game, he had a nice pile of chips, though it was still smaller than Fran’s. He’d been too busy winning to try and watch and work out how she was cheating but he was pretty certain she was switching out cards. How she was doing it was something else all together and not knowing was driving him mad.

“I grow tired,” said Fran, reaching for her chips.

“Wait!” said Balthier. He thought fast. “Stay for another game and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I do not care for the house wine,” said Fran, wrinkling her nose.

“Champagne then. A gentleman ought to treat a lady, no?”

Fran hesitated. “I am no hume,” she said, as if it were a warning.

“I can see that. But surely no person of any species would turn down champagne at Rabanastre’s finest casino?”

“You are persistent,” said Fran. “If you desire my company so much, I suppose I cannot refuse.”

“Excellent. Shall we?”

Balthier had poor luck in the second game but he kept his bets as low as he could. Fran won yet again and he could see the dealer frowning, beginning to wonder if the Viera’s luck was more than luck. Fran handled the cards fluidly, one handed as the rules dictated. 

It was so smooth that Balthier almost missed it. The dealer did and so did the other players. But he’d glimpsed a white flash in her hand.

“I win,” said Fran. She had two queens.

Balthier smirked. He kept what he’d seen to himself - he wasn’t going to stop anyone taking money off the casino. But the knowledge there was another cheater made him feel, in some small way, not quite so alone.

XxX

“To our winnings,” said Fran.

They clinked their champagne glasses. The drinks had put a significant dent in Balthier’s profits but a man had to have some fun. There was a pause while they both sipped and Balthier wondered at how quickly he’d gone from a crashing ship and no money to a drink with a beautiful woman at a casino bar. Sometimes, he thought, he really loved his life. He couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips as he watched the champagne bubble. Fran seemed like a difficult nut to crack but she was having a drink with him so he must have done something right. 

“You count the cards,” said Fran, proving herself to be even more interesting than he’d first thought. It took a second for him to register what she'd just said. 

It wasn’t often that Balthier got caught counting, as most people weren’t even aware of such a trick. It had been said without accusation, as if it were just another fact of life like the sky being blue or Rabanastre being too hot. Fran took another sip of champagne, patiently waiting for his response.

And now he’d had a second to think, Balthier knew just what to say. It had been difficult to spot and took a lot of practice to do one handed but Fran was a pro, no doubt about it.

“And you, my dear, were palming cards.”

Fran made a little ‘tch’ sound. “Only one who cheats could have caught me.”

“Excuse me, but it isn’t cheating to use your brain.”

“That depends.”

There was a short silence while Balthier attempted to size her up. It was difficult to read her face and he couldn’t work out if that was because she was a Viera or careful with what she gave away. She’d certainly make one hell of a poker player. It was tempting to challenge her right here right now - and under normal circumstances Balthier would. But he knew he needed to hold on to what he’d earned to make a down payment on repairs to the Strahl. 

“So what brings a lady like yourself to Rabanastre?” he asked.

“You may say ‘Viera’. I won’t be offended at being called what I am.”

Balthier smiled at that. “I see a lady first and a Viera second.”

Fran snorted. “You speak with a mouth full of honey.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

There was another silence and for a moment Balthier thought she might not answer. But then she spoke again.

“I like to travel. My travels brought me here. It is easy to get coin in the cities.”

“Ah! So you need money then? A lady after my own heart!”

“And what of you? Was it just the destruction of your ship that brought you here?”

“She hasn’t been destroyed,” Balthier said tartly. “And I suppose you could say that I’m a traveller but I would call myself a sky pirate.”

The flourish and wink he gave Fran didn’t seem to impress her. By now, most women would be eating out of his hand. But Fran’s stoic manner did make an interesting change at least and she was clever, too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a civilised conversation with someone he considered an equal and he was enjoying every second.

“A sky pirate without a ship is surely just a pirate. Or a common thief.”

“Now, now. There’s no need to be rude! Once I have enough money I will get her repaired.”

“Getting parts for a ship like that in Rabanastre will be no easy feat.”

“And why not?”

“It has a combination engine. I could tell by the ship’s voice. It uses the wind but also stores power to keep movement even. The Rabanastre ships work solely on the wind. I am willing to bet none in the aerodrome have seen an engine such as yours.”

Balthier’s champagne dimmed mind had just about kept up with her explanation but the key take away had been -

“You like your ships, hmm? Then maybe you could take a look at mine for me?”

“We will still need to buy parts,” Fran reminded him. “Why don’t you hand me your chips and I will acquire what you need?”

Balthier laughed at her brazen attempt to scam him out of his winnings. He had been a sky pirate for long enough that a trick like this would never work, even after he’d had champagne.

“Not a chance! You’ll have to try harder than that, my dear.”

“I already know you don’t have enough. Perhaps we can remedy that.”

XxX

“Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Your eyes are quite lovely. Were you watching me, just now?”

The casino had security guards posted in every area, just to make life more interesting for scoundrels like him and Fran. This guard in particular was looking after the slot machine area - and it was her unlucky night. Fran had told Balthier to make himself useful and flutter his eyelashes until she was done breaking all of the machines. The plan was to plunder the slot machines for all the coins they could.

Balthier was too taken aback and drunk on champagne to put up much of a protest about the plan and so here he was. It struck him as slightly backwards - leading men like him didn’t usually play the part of distraction - but a new challenge was always interesting.

The guard’s cheeks had turned pink so seemed Balthier’s patter was having the right effect. Either that or the fact that he had brought his face very close to hers. 

“N-not at all, sir. My job is to watch everyone I just happened to be-”

“I wouldn’t mind if you were,” Balthier continued. He twirled his champagne glass between his fingers for effect. “We should have a drink together. Celebrate my good fortune.”

The jingle crash of coins behind him demonstrated that his fortune had just got significantly greater. He assumed Fran had now had time to complete her trick. She had shown him the device she would use - a kind of stick that fit inside the slot and told the machine whether to dispense coins or not. 

The guard looked sheepish and reached up to twirl a strand of her blonde hair between her fingers. 

“I’m not allowed to socialise with the clientele, sir.”

“Oh, what nonsense! Couldn’t you make an exception? Just this once?”

Balthier leaned in closer and the guard opened her mouth to respond when suddenly someone called out -

“Guard! Hey, guard! She’s cheating!”

Balthier turned and opened his mouth hoping he would be able to talk them out of whatever the other patron had seen. What he hadn’t counted on was Fran moving faster than a Chocobo who’d caught scent of gysahl greens. The Viera bolted, grabbing Balthier on her way out and dragging him along with her. The champagne glass he’d been holding tinkled as it smashed on the plushly carpeted floor.

There was no time to look back but Balthier could hear the shouts of the casino guards as they began to pursue. There was also the definite click-click of guns being armed. Other casino patrons were beginning to notice the commotion. Balthier reached for his own gun and held it in front of him.

“Out of the way or I’ll shoot!”

There were a lot of raised hands and fearful expressions, especially considering that Balthier was being half dragged by Fran who could move a lot quicker than he could.

The doors to the casino were within reach and then they were out on the street and Balthier was laughing into the Rabanastran air. 

XxX

“You are quite drunk,” said Fran. She was holding him up as they strode through the city together. Balthier found walking straight was just not an option anymore and besides, leaning on Fran was comfortable. He wasn’t drunk drunk, just a little tipsy but the running on top of the alcohol had pushed him further than he was used to. 

“Do you think they’re still following us?”

“No. I would hear.”

Fran had half carried, half dragged him through a series of alleyways and tunnels and now they were in a dark streets of what Balthier assumed was Lowtown. 

“Is this the part where you rob me blind and leave me in an alley?” he asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

“No,” said Fran and was it just him or was there a hint of amusement in her voice. “I have a different proposal.”

“Fran, I’m very flattered but I can’t marry you. What will people say? We’ve only just met!”

“Not that kind of proposal. It is thus. You have a ship. I can repair it. When you leave Rabanastre, I will go with you.”

“You propose a partnership?”

“I do. We work quite well together, do you not think? You are in need of a mechanic and I am in need of a way to travel.”

“But where do you wish to go?”

“Where the wind takes me. And you?”

“Much the same.”

“Then it is a deal?”

Balthier didn’t even hesitate. If partnering with Fran meant more nights like this one, he was in. Besides, it would be nice to have a companion. 

(Though he could never quite admit to being lonely)

“It’s a deal. Sky pirate’s honour.”

Fran’s hand was long and slender in his as they shook on it and when their eyes met he saw something in them that hadn’t been there before. A kind of warmth. A rush of excitement went through him - she might be playing it cool as ice but she liked him after all! 

But then, who could blame her? Anyone would fall for the leading man eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know a bit more about the tricks Fran and Balthier were using at the casino, search for The Real Hustle on Youtube. But essentially Balthier was counting the cards which helps you predict what the dealer will play and how much to gamble. It's not illegal but can be frowned upon. Fran was simply switching the cards on the tables for ones concealed in her hand - if you're a pro you can do it one handed and even CCTV won't catch it. 
> 
> Yes I legit researched how to cheat at cards in casinos for this fic and I had such a good time. I wouldn't advise trying it though because you will get in trouble unless you're a sky pirate with tons of practice
> 
> (Vaan is banned from every casino in Rabanastre btw)


End file.
